


Sweet Victory

by Caeseria



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bukkake, Determined Yuuri, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeseria/pseuds/Caeseria
Summary: Yuuri’s feeling confident after the short program; confident enough to seduce Victor, in public, in front of a crowd. Now he’s got Victor alone, he can claim his reward.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Um. I'm trying to write a slow build fic full of UST for Yuuri's birthday, and this scene keeps getting in the way. I blame it on Victor in episode 4 where he's leaning over the boards at the rink with sweat dripping off his face. Dammit, Victor. So I decided to write this and get it out of my head once and for all so I can finish the other story.
> 
> I'm also on [Tumblr](http://caeseria.tumblr.com/) if you want to say hi, or leave a prompt for consideration. I can't stop writing these guys. Help.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yuuri feels a little overwhelmed.  Okay, if he’s going to be honest with himself, _very_ overwhelmed.  He’s in first place after the short program and now he’s finished with the press conferences and the congratulations. He feels high on endorphins from his skate; his muscles ache pleasantly, and he’s yet to lose that breathless sense of excitement.  That excitement is a new thing; it appeared during his skate at the Regionals and its’s yet to fade.  He hopes it doesn’t – for the first time in his career he’s actually enjoying himself, and that makes him feel confident. 

Confident enough to stop playing a character during his program, and to start being himself. 

Confident enough to seduce Victor in public, to openly take his hand, to lean forward, touch his forehead to Victor’s, and say _don’t take your eyes off me_. 

Like an unspoken promise, Victor’s been watching him ever since.  Yuuri could feel Victor’s hot gaze as he skated, during the press conference, and now, as Yuuri leans against the wall in the corridor, he can feel it like a physical caress.  He looks over; Victor’s talking with Chris, the Swiss skater, but his attention is fixed firmly on Yuuri.  Yuuri feels a surge of adrenaline knowing that Victor is watching him.  He feels like he can conquer the world right now, and that makes him bold.  He shifts, waits until Victor’s eyes meet his again, and licks his lips.  Watches as Victor’s eyes go wide, then narrow, like Yuuri is the only thing that matters.

Yuuri unfolds his arms, slides the zipper of his warmup jacket down and pushes off the wall.  He lets his gaze linger on Victor’s, lets his eyes wander over Victor’s hard body beneath his designer suit, and then turns his back, walking down the corridor.  He reaches the door to the bathroom, turns again and meets Victor’s eyes.  The invitation is clear; _I’m yours if you want me._  

He pushes open the door and walks inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Victor pushes the door open, Yuuri is waiting.  The desire that’s been simmering in Yuuri’s veins starts to curl and awaken and he can feel himself getting hard, just from watching Victor stand there.  Victor looks a little breathless, a faint dusting of color across his cheeks and he looks at Yuuri like a starving man would a bowl of… Katsudon.  Yuuri’s leaning back against the countertop, and his hands curve over the edge, gripping tightly.  He can’t look away from Victor; its almost physically impossible.  Victor looks similarly affected; he takes a deep, shaky breath and crosses the room in four strides until he’s in Yuuri’s space, almost chest to chest.  Yuuri can feel himself leaning forward, until their foreheads are touching.  Victor’s hands close on Yuuri’s biceps, fingers digging in, like he’s holding onto a lifeline.  All Yuuri has to do is… he tilts his head, closes his eyes, and presses his lips to Victor’s.  It’s a careful kiss at first, delicate, and Yuuri pulls back a little to gauge Victor’s reaction.  Victor looks a little shell shocked, but then he smiles; there’s a ghost of Victor’s normal self there, and he says, “Wow, what bought this on, hmm?”

Yuuri doesn’t have time to respond; Victor’s hand slides up his arm, over his shoulder, to cup the back of his neck, and he pulls Yuuri into a thorough kiss that leaves Yuuri’s head spinning, all conscious thought gone at the first touch of Victor’s lips.  Victor makes a little noise when Yuuri returns the kiss; half surprise, half longing, and then Yuuri’s kissing back, the confidence returning.  This time when Victor pulls back he’s wearing a devastating smile, and it lights up his whole face.  “You win,” Victor says a little breathlessly, “You’ve seduced me completely.  I’m yours, Yuuri.”

“Huh?” Now that Yuuri’s gone this far, he’s abruptly run out of plans.  His experience will only take things so far and, to be honest, he hadn’t really thought much farther ahead.

Victor laughs softly, eyes sparkling with amusement and banked heat.  “I see we need to work on your seduction techniques,” he laughs.  “Although I think we should work on _this_ first.” 

Victor takes Yuuri’s hand and presses it to the front of his dress pants.  Yuuri’s hand automatically curls around Victor’s erection and Victor lets out a quiet moan, his hips jerking forward in response.   Yuuri sucks in a surprised breath and after a few seconds, presses his palm flat and strokes upward.  Victor’s reaction is incredible; he pulls in a breath, almost a hiss, and rolls his hips into Yuuri’s touch.  His mouth seeks Yuuri’s again, the kiss becoming heated as Yuuri strokes him, learns what Victor likes, what makes his breath hitch.  It’s a heady feeling of power, knowing he can make Victor respond like this, and he wants more.  He’s about to say as much when Victor stills, breaking the kiss.  “Maybe this is a little too public, yes?” he says with a wink.

It takes Yuuri a moment to figure out what he means, and then realization kicks in.  They’re in a public washroom, off a busy hallway. Rather than dampen Yuuri’s enthusiasm, it only seems to make his body pulse with hard, tight heat, and he swallows around a mouth gone dry with excitement.  Victor’s eyes widen slightly when he sees Yuuri’s response, and he grins.  It’s a smile filled with mischief, with desire; the type of desire that makes a person reckless, willing to take risks.  Yuuri knows this, because he’s wearing the same expression. 

Victor takes Yuuri by the wrist and tugs, pulls him, unresisting, toward the large stall farthest from the door.  The sound of the door closing is final and, before Yuuri can form words, Victor’s pushing him up against the wall, is plundering his mouth with hard and heated kisses.  Yuuri wastes no time returning the favour, pressing himself against Victor with abandon, restraint and propriety forgotten.  He _wants_ Victor and, now that he’s won the short program, gotten this far, he knows they’re on equal terms.  Maybe not in talent; Victor will always have that edge, will always be his idol, his wet dream, his goal.  But Yuuri feels that, now, they are on an equal footing personally, and it makes him bolder.  He’s got no clue what he’s doing but, judging by the noises Victor’s making, the way his hands are roaming, pushing Yuuri’s warmup jacket off, fumbling at the zipper at the nape of his neck, he must be doing something right.  Yuuri reaches his hands up, pushes Victor’s suit jacket off his shoulders in one quick movement, letting it fall to the floor.  He pulls at Victor’s tie, loosening it until he can work it free.  As Victor slides down the zipper at the back of Yuuri’s costume, Yuuri’s working the buttons free on Victor’s shirt, kissing his way along the hard line of Victor’s jaw, nipping at his neck.  His hands flatten on Victor’s chest, palms dragging across his skin, over his nipples.  Victor moans and tilts his head back and Yuuri can’t resist; placing open mouthed kisses on Victor’s neck, biting gently.  Victor’s hands tighten on Yuuri’s waist, and then he’s sliding his hands up Yuuri’s back, tugging on the collar of the costume, pulling it down over Yuuri’s shoulders to his waist, until he’s bare chested.

It’s like neither of them can get enough; cold hands on heated skin, the push and pull of touch, of need, want, _now_.  Yuuri cards his hand through Victor’s hair, tugging at the short hair at the nape of his neck, and Victor offers himself freely, panting harshly as Yuuri leaves red marks on the pale skin of his neck, down his shoulder where he’s pushed Victor’s shirt to the side. 

“Yuuri, please,” Victor pleads, and that goes straight to Yuuri’s cock, violent heat blanking his thoughts for a moment. 

It takes Yuuri precious moments to realize that Victor’s offering himself to Yuuri, no reservations despite his inexperience, and it’s humbling, but more importantly, one of the sexiest things Yuuri’s ever seen.  It’s almost enough to blow his mind.  Victor’s watching him from behind eyes lidded heavy with desire.  His hair is mussed, cheeks flushed, mouth parted slightly.  He’s every wet dream and deviant fantasy Yuuri’s ever had, every secret thought that can’t be shared, every shaking, muffled cry that escaped into the darkness as Yuuri’s found release.  He’s all the things Yuuri could only dream about, but is now made reality.  Victor’s gaze holds Yuuri’s, clearly says _take me, take it all if you dare_.

Victor leans in for another breathtaking kiss and then slides gracefully to his knees.  He pulls at the fabric of Yuuri’s costume, careful despite his haste, until it’s down around Yuuri’s thighs.  Yuuri’s exposed to the cool air, his erection hot and heavy.  Victor curls his hand around Yuuri’s cock and strokes, watching him.  Yuuri’s beyond reaction, his mind is on overload, palms pressed to the cool tile wall in an effort to ground himself.  Victor smirks; looks like he knows what Yuuri’s thinking, and then his tongue comes out, wetting his lips.  _Now_ the tables are turned; Yuuri knows how Victor feels, that sharp jolt of excitement that takes your breath away.  He wonders if Victor got hard when he did that at the beginning of his program, and a moan escapes his lips at the thought.

Victor gets a devious look on his face.  “Touch yourself for me, Yuuri.  I’ll give you a reward.”

Yuuri feels his face heat, eyes going wide, but he’s not about to deny Victor anything.  He wraps his trembling fingers over Victor’s, and for a beautiful moment he has his hand on his cock, twined with Victor’s and it feels divine.  His cock jumps in their intertwined hands, and a bead of precome leaks from the tip.  Almost as if in slow motion, Victor leans forward and swirls his tongue around the head of Yuuri’s erection.  He makes an agreeable noise, eyes sliding closed for a moment and Yuuri knows that that image is going to be burned into his skull for all eternity.  He starts to stroke himself and Victor removes his own hand, eyes opening, focusing solely on Yuuri’s gaze.  He rests his hands on Yuuri’s hips, pressing him back against the cold tile, holding him in place, mouthing at the underside of Yuuri’s cock, his balls, tongue tangling with Yuuri’s fingers.  Yuuri spreads his legs wider, moans, can feel his eyes start to slide closed, but Victor’s not having any of it, blunt nails digging into Yuuri’s hipbones in warning.  He wants Yuuri to watch.  Yuuri’s hips jerk and the head of his cock pushes against Victor’s lips.  Victor doesn’t break eye contact, simply parts his lips and suddenly Yuuri’s cock is surrounded by heat, tightness as Victor takes him in, presses his sinful tongue against the underside of Yuuri’s cock and then swallows.  The sudden constriction takes Yuuri completely by surprise and he lets out a shaky moan, echoed by Victor.  Victor starts to move, sliding back and then taking him in all the way down to Yuuri’s knuckles.  Yuuri lets go of his cock, reaches forward and tangles his hand in Victor’s hair, watching as Victor takes him in that last couple of inches, moving in a steady rhythm that’s enough to drive Yuuri insane.  He’s panting hard, can’t think, can’t do anything more than stand there, thighs trembling, close to release but not close enough.  Victor knows exactly what he’s doing, knows how to keep Yuuri on edge, that much is apparent. 

Victor moves his hands from Yuuri’s hips to his thighs, stroking over the soft, sensitive skin, sending a frisson of electric heat racing up Yuuri’s spine. Yuuri’s starting to make obscene noises, he knows he’s getting louder.  He covers his own mouth with his hand, trying to muffle the sounds that spill from his lips; curses mixed with encouragement.  Now he’s free to move his hips, he rocks forward, fucking Victor’s mouth, slowly at first, deeper when he realizes Victor isn’t going to pull away.

Victor watches his every move, and that’s as much of a turn on as anything.  He’s gorgeous in his disarray; tie loose around his neck, shirt sliding off one shoulder.  Victor’s nipples are hard points, visible through the fine fabric of his designer shirt, his abs outlined in shadows that dip and play across his skin, down to his navel.  Victor reaches a hand down, elegant fingers caressing his own stomach, moving lower to release the buckle on his belt.  It comes loose with a clink, and, with a flick of his wrist, Victor unbuttons his dress pants, lowers the zipper, and pushes them down over his hips.  He pushes his underwear down and frees his cock.  The sight of Victor wrapping a hand around himself almost makes Yuuri come and he gasps out a shuddering breath.  Victor hums in approval, suckling at the head of Yuuri’s cock, wrapping his tongue around it like it’s a lollipop as he starts to jerk himself off with slow, deliberate strokes. 

“V-Victor,” Yuuri stammers, because he can’t keep this up, not for long, not watching Victor Nikiforov jerk himself off at his feet like this. 

Victor’s losing it too; Yuuri can tell.  The flush on Victor’s cheeks is now a hectic pink, his lips are wet and swollen, stretched around Yuuri’s cock.   

Yuuri’s balls tighten, the hot ache in his belly is almost unbearable, but then Victor smiles.  It’s a smile that says so many things, some of which Yuuri is ill equipped to interpret at this point, but its sexy as fuck.  Victor moves, tilts his head slightly and the head of Yuuri’s cock slides from his mouth, across his cheek, leaving a glistening smear of precome across his skin.  Yuuri sucks in a shuddering breath at the sight and makes eye contact with Victor.  Victor’s eyes are dark beneath his lashes, pupils blown. 

“Don’t take your eyes off me, Yuuri.”  Victor’s voice is laced with dark eroticism, husky with desire.

Victor parts his lips, tongue lapping at the end of Yuuri’s cock.  He watches intently as Yuuri comes with a bitten off cry, unable to stop himself.  Come fills Victor’s mouth, spills down his jaw, across his lips.  Yuuri’s cock pulses again and ribbons of come decorate Victor’s cheek, his eyelashes.  Victor moans, whispers Yuuri’s name.  He leans back, panting, licks his lips. It’s obscene and yet, at the same time, one of the most incredibly hot things Yuuri’s ever witnessed. Even his deepest, most secret fantasies have never allowed him this liberty.  Yuuri watches, mesmerized, as his come slides down Victor’s jaw, along the fine line of his neck.  Victor is beautiful in that moment; a fallen god, utterly ruined.

Yuuri sinks to his knees between Victor’s legs, tangles his hand in Victor’s hair.  He presses his forehead to Victor’s, heedless of the sticky mess that decorates his face, and laps at the corner of his mouth.  “Come for me, Victor, please,” he breathes, and covers Victor’s mouth with his own in a kiss that speaks of possession, ownership, desire.  Victor lets out a needy moan as he comes, body arched taut almost to breaking point.  Yuuri wraps his hand over Victor’s, stroking him through orgasm, swallowing every cry he makes, every bitten off sound, until Victor is spent, slumping forward, breaking the kiss to rest his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.  They stay like that, unmoving, until their breathing returns to normal.  Yuuri rests his chin on the top of Victor’s head, stroking fingers through his hair, a gesture that’s soothing to them both.  Eventually he feels Victor shift, nuzzling into Yuuri’s neck, placing little soft kisses against his collar bone.

“How did you like your reward?” Victor asks playfully.

Yuuri tilts his head enough to make eye contact and smiles.  “Very much.”  He pauses.  “Maybe better than Katsudon.”

Victor laughs, a quiet, breathy sound that is utterly endearing, so unlike his normal outgoing public personality.  This is private, between the both of them, and Yuuri feels himself falling farther, faster, for this fascinating person.  He’s already deeply in trouble; now it’s worse, but he can’t feel remorse – he _won’t_.

He reaches out and swipes at some of the mess on Victor’s face, feels Victor’s eyelashes flutter beneath his touch.  He can’t help but lean in, offer himself in another kiss.  This time Victor takes control, reasserting himself, leaving Yuuri a writhing mess, wanting more.  “Next time,” Victor says, swiping his tongue over Yuuri’s bottom lip, “Next time you win, you can have another reward.”

“Oh?” Yuuri’s curious now.

“Hmm. You’ll just have to work hard and find out what it is, yes?”

Yuuri’s confident.  He knows he can succeed with Victor at his side.  Together, they can take on the world, and win. 

And when he does, he knows there’ll be a reward waiting for him.

 


End file.
